


A Case of You

by umekew



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Academy Era, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Iowa, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, farming..., maybe slow burn??, spock is awkward!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-06
Updated: 2019-06-29
Packaged: 2020-02-18 14:28:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18701452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/umekew/pseuds/umekew
Summary: Spock is not good at interacting with humans. So, Captain Pike decides to send him to the Kirk Family Farm for summer break to work on his social skills with a certain Cadet :)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Remember when I said I'd post more mgs... That fell through the roof. Anyway Here's Star Trek! Hopefully I will actually finish this.........
> 
> This is completely for funsies so it won't be 100% canon adherent. Also I haven't watched DIS so none of the canon added to that will be included in this. Hope you enjoy!

“Look, Spock-” Christopher Pike ground the heels of his palms into his eyes, elbows firmly planted in his desk. Spock had taken to sticking by Pike’s side over the course of his education at the Academy. He’d never received the same level of respect from his peers that he had from Pike. “I’ve received about nine complaints this semester alone regarding your…Treatment of students.”

“I do believe my treatment of and behavior towards those I teach and learn alongside follow generally accepted social interactions amongst humanoids.”

“Yeah, but you’ve got to look at it from their perspective. They’re young, and they expect every professor to treat them the way Terrans treat them. Hey, don’t look at me like that. I know they’re going to have to interact with species who behave in manners outside of their comfort zones, but right now it’s kind of… Freaky to them.” Pike tapped his fingers on the desk.

Spock nodded mechanically, sat ramrod straight in his chair. “Understood, Captain. I will accept whatever method of punishment you deem—”

“No, Spock. This isn’t punishment worthy.” Christopher chuckled. “I will however, tell you what I’m going to do.” He stood up, moved around the desk, sitting down gently on the sofa by the door of his office. “You are staying on Earth for summer break, yes?”

“Affirmative.” Spock swiveled around to watch the Captain. For once, he couldn’t quite predict what Christopher intended for him to do.

“Good!” he smiled. “Not to barrage you with questions — I’m sure you don’t mind — But are you familiar with Cadet Kirk?”

“I cannot say that I am.” Spock supposed it was good to not know just what Pike was thinking — after all, the skill of hiding one’s course of action would be beneficial for a Captain under certain circumstances. 

“Haha! Even better.”

“Captain —”

“Chris.”

“— Chris. I’m afraid I do not follow where this is headed.” The Vulcan would not admit to anyone that his hands had gotten slightly clammy. He did not bother to calculate the percentage of clamminess he was experiencing, a departure from his typical thinking process.

“Spock, I want you to go to Iowa for break.”

Spock did not respond. He simply watched Pike’s startlingly blue eyes. His mother had taught him long ago to make eye contact with Terrans when he felt what she called “flabbergasted”, so as to feign confidence. A few beats passed before he spoke. “I do not understand the significance of the state Iowa. From my understanding, it is simply farmland, the main crop being corn, with a population estimated to be three — “ 

“Spock, you really worry far too much.” the half-Vulcan opened his mouth, but was silenced by Chris’s finger being held up. “That’s where Kirk’s home is. His family has owned a farm there for generations. It is quite beautiful. I’ve visited it a few times myself, when Winona and George were planetside.”

It dawned on Spock. “You believe I would gain something from the experience of residing on a farm with Cadet Kirk.”

Chris smiled. “Exactly! Kirk is… An interesting fellow. Really easy for most people to get along with. I believe that you would benefit from his friendliness, you know what I mean?”

“Yes.”

“I know you’re thinking that it won’t work, as every other person who’s otherwise been deemed friendly to you probably has not turned out to be such. But Kirk is different. You guys are on the same wavelength.”

“I see.” Spock wished he were acquainted with this cadet. Certainly he cannot be what his colleague has chalked him up to be. To Spock, no one has ever been.

The captain let out a sigh.“I’m trying to help, yeah? If I don’t offer a method to solve this “problem” then it would go higher up. And your ass would be whooped.”

“I fail to see why the admiralty would physically hit my posterior.”

“You see? Within two weeks of being around Kirk you’ll understand almost every Terran colloquial known to man. Save you the trouble of having to ask every time someone refers to a bee’s knees.”

Spock did not want to know what the significance of a bee’s knee was. As a child he’d always found it foolish to partake in the trivial idioms his mother used, albeit sparingly. He’d silently believed that it was perhaps the useless information that filled the minds of Terrans that created a less intelligent society in comparison to Vulcans or even Romulans. As he sat in front of Chris, however, he knew his logic there was flawed. But he still wished to forego any learning of “slang.”

Chris stood up, pulling down the bottom of his now wrinkled uniform shirt. He looked slightly more serious than he’d been in the past fifteen minutes. “I’ll give you time to think about it. You can come by on your free time to ask any further questions, I’ll probably be around.” Spock stood as well, hands resting behind his back as they always were. The Captain’s expression softened into a smile. He gently put his hand on Spock’s shoulder. “I know it may not be the most comfortable idea, but just think about it, okay? If not I’m sure I can work out something better.”

With anyone else, Spock would shudder at the mere hover of a hand over his shoulder, and yet he did not in the quiet of the standard Academy faculty office. In his whole life he never dared to consider anyone a friend, but perhaps Chris would be the first to receive that title. 

“Thank you, Chris. I understand the importance of thinking outside of the proverbial box, and I will take your words into serious consideration.”

“Alright. No need to get all sappy on me. You’re dismissed.” 

Spock nodded once before taking leave of the room.

 

 

Spock knocked on Chris’s door. For some reason the man refused to allow the sound system to chime upon request to enter, and years ago he destroyed all connections of it to his office. Chris told him he never moved to an upgraded office, as he did not wish to “pay the damn fine” to get it repaired. He heard the faint voice of the Captain allowing his entry before opening the door.

“Captain.”

Chris turned away from the padd in his hand to greet him. “Spock! What can I do for you, son?”

“I wish to inquire upon this… excursion? I do not know what to call the “punishment” I am being given.”

“Oh! The Iowa thing!” 

“Yes.”

“Shoot.”

“What am I shooting?” Spock realized the meaning immediately after questioning it, as Chris smirked at him. “Disregard that question. I wish to know what activities might I partake in while attending the Iowa thing.”

“Oh, you know. Helping Jim out on the farm. Enjoy nature. Interact with people in their natural environments.” Chris answered.

“I see. You are aware that this does not abide by what I typically spend my free time doing, are you not?”

“Yeah, I’m aware. It is called a “Summer Break” for a reason. There is life to be taken part in outside of conducting experiments and creating better curriculums for future classes. Live a little, you know?”

“I am currently living.”

“Not until you’re around Jim, you aren’t.”

 

 

“Chris,” 

“Hmm?” he said around a real Reuben sandwich. It was the last day of the spring semester at Starfleet Academy, and he invited Spock over to have dinner with him and Number One.

“I have come to the conclusion that I will in fact be staying with James Kirk over the summer.”

“Oh Spock, that’s excellent!” Number One exclaimed, coming into the room with extra napkins. She slapped him on the back, but Spock found that he did not mind.

Chris finished swallowing his bite. “Really. I’m quite proud of you. I’ll shoot him a message later to confirm it with him. You haven’t looked into his file or anything, have you?”

“No. I believe it would, as you’ve said, spoil the surprise.” Spock lifted his vegetarian wrap. He found that humans liked to lift their food in the air when they speak, especially Number One. Among the human behaviors that he could possibly pick up, this is not one he was bothered by. 

“Great! That settles it. You and the great Midwest will get along.”

“I do not understand how a census region and I could form a bond, but I trust your judgment nonetheless.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh gosh. Sorry this took so long to get out :( I was in a rut but I’m not now!!! Hope you like it!

It was hot. Not to the extent he desired, however. The seventeen degree increase in comparison to the average temperature of San Francisco did not meet the “extreme heat” of his homeworld in early summer. Number One informed him to pack substantially warm clothes, and fortunately she had been correct in her suggestion. He sported a thick, black sweater gifted to him by his mother and trousers of a similar material. She also told him to dress in a manner that would be comfortable to look upon for humans, as many an Iowan hadn’t the chance to have ever gone off planet.

The road to the farm was a rocky one, an unfamiliar feeling to the paved roads surrounding the Academy. Everything about Iowa seemed strange in Spock’s eyes. The lack of non-Terrans, the fact that he was sitting in the back of a taxicab. He’d never even seen one, let alone heard of one that existed outside of the Terran novels his mother asked him to read years and years ago. The terrain of vulcan, even California, was ever changing as one watched outside of public transport or gazed at the land on a walk in the desert. Iowa seemed to be one stagnant photograph of crops. He did not mind however, as the way the land looked did not concern him in the slightest.

He arrived at the house a while later (it felt longer than the ten minutes his internal clock was telling him). From the looks of it, the building once functioned as a farmhouse itself and was converted into a living space. The fields of green seemed to go on forever behind it. 

A quiet seeped into the air as the taxicab departed, leaving him with his luggage and the chirping of crickets, the jingle of windchimes on the porch.

He breathed in deeply, considering his next actions. As Chris advised, he researched nothing about Kirk. When given the ability to he always looked into the files of individuals before meeting them. He was unused to not knowing even an insignificant piece of knowledge about someone upon first interaction. Nevertheless, this whole “Iowa thing” was meant to serve an educational purpose, so he would have to go in blindly to everything.

Spock approached the house and came halfway up the creaky steps when the door opened before him. Out came a man of a slightly smaller stature. He sported a t-shirt with a dull Starfleet Academy logo and a pair of beige shorts. His forehead glistened from the heat of the outdoors, his hazel eyes half-lidded.

“Hello,” The man said, in combination with a smile. “You must be Spock!”

“Indeed, that is my name.”

“I’m James, but you can call me Jim or whatever. This isn’t a professional situation.” He offered the Vulcan salute with ease, which Spock returned. “It is very nice to finally meet you.” The half vulcan raised an eyebrow to the choice of words.

Spock grabbed his luggage to bring up the stairs, but James held up a hand. “Oh, I’ll grab that for you.”

“I do not see a need for you to carry my possessions.” He kept his grip firm on the bag.

James rubbed the back of his neck. “Hmm. It’s a, uh, hospitality thing? You are my guest so it only seems fitting to assist you.”

He did not want the Terran’s help. It was incredibly hard to betray the logic sounding off in his mind, telling him to take care of his own needs. And yet, he was here to become friends with and learn from the man shifting awkwardly from foot to foot in front of him. He supposed letting him do this one task for him would not bring anyone harm. He handed the bag to James. 

“Very well. Thank you.”

The man offered him a smile. “Alright, let’s head on in, yeah?”

 

James proceeded to show him a tour of the whole house; It was spacious given its size. The glossy hardwood floors and rustic decorations, Spock admitted to himself, were certainly different from what he was used to. Different, but pleasing to his eyes. When he stopped to examine trinkets hung from the wall, his host quietly gave descriptions of their origin. Spock spent little of his time, even in his youth, around the dwellings of Terrans. As they came up the stairs, James showed him to the rooms available for Spock to choose. Between the choice of the Terran’s older brother’s unoccupied room and the guest room, Spock chose the latter.

James chuckled, opening the creaky door, placing Spock’s bag on the floor inside. “I figured you’d go for this one.” He did not elaborate. Instead he sighed, placing his hands on his hips. “Well, I guess that’s it for today, huh?”

“I assume so.” Spock looked towards the window, finding it to be nearing sundown as birds passed by. Even though he knew his internal clock to be correct at all times, it felt as though time was flowing differently.

“Oh! I forgot to mention.” The Terran pushed the hair out of his face. “This place is older than dirt. In preservation of that, my dad never wanted to put things in that would make it “modern.” It took my mom until Sam was 8 to convince him to get us a replicator!” He laughed, Spock providing no reaction. “Anyway. Sorry. We’ve never updated the temperature regulation system, meaning the thermostat only changes the whole house.. And it gets pretty chilly in the evenings, so...”

“You are suggesting that the temperature be kept high in an effort to combat the effects a normal human temperature has on me.”

James snapped a finger. “precisely!”

“Unfortunately, I cannot accept this proposal.”

“Oh. Why, might I ask?”

“The temperature that my body would require to maintain natural homeostasis would be unbearable to one from a humid continental climate. I will simply control the temperature of my body and allow you to set one of your choosing.”

James gave an indecipherable expression. “I see.” They stood, staring at each other for a moment. “Are you hungry for anything? I programmed some Vulcan foods and vegetarian options into the replicator. We could try them out and see how accurate I got them?”

“I appreciate the gesture, but I do not require sustenance.” Spock realized he forgot the goal of friendliness and amended his statement, “Perhaps we could do so tomorrow?”

“Of course. I’ll go get you some blankets so you can sleep comfortably.” James pointed at him before jogging away. Spock never understood why Terrans pointed at each other so frequently.

When James returned, Spock had already removed all of his belongings from the luggage, and was putting his clothes into the drawers provided. He brought along a mat to meditate on, several articles of clothing, and hygiene products. He did not bring along any of his incense, as he was unsure as to whether his host would be bothered by the scent. James entered the room, arms disappearing in a large heap of blankets. It was a humorous sight, as he dropped them on the floor.

“I was unsure how many you needed so I grabbed them all...” Spock found a corner of his mouth lifting at the words. Perhaps it was exhaustion that was weakening his emotional restraint. “Also, are you allergic to animals? Dogs? Cats?“

“I am not allergic to the dander of Earth animals, as far as I know.”

“Oh, thank god. I have like, 6 dogs and an undetermined amount of cats running around the land so. That would be a disaster.” He sat at the edge of Spock’s bed. “Can Vulcans be allergic to animals?”

“I do not know.” He put the last sweater away, closing the drawer. “Actually, that statement is false. There was one documented case of a vulcan being allergic to a Bolian grass tick approximately seventy years ago.”

“Geez. Good thing I don’t have any Bolian fleas lying around. And very few hyposprays.” James rubbed his eyes, yawning exaggeratedly. “Well, I ought to go eat something, I’m starved!” He stood from the bed, moving to stand in front of Spock. “Is there anything else you might need?”

“No further assistance is needed here.”

“Alright. I’m off, then. Let me know if you need something.” James was out the door when Spock opened his mouth.

“James?”

“Yeah? What’s up?

“I.. wish to inquire on a statement you made earlier.” There were many questions he could ask The man in that moment. Many he figured would prove as fruitless as the one he was going to pose.

“Okay, shoot.”

“What...How can your house possibly be, as you put it, older than dirt?”

“Oh boy,” James chuckled at the question. “This is going to be fun. All of it, I can tell.”

 

Later — much later — Spock found himself to be asleep. Colder than he’d like, but still managing to rest. Within at least two hours of slumber, he’d awoken, noting the increase in his body temperature. As his eyes adjusted to the dark of the bedroom, he felt the sharp increase of the room’s temperature in comparison to when he fell asleep. He hypothesized that it could simply be his body lagging behind his brain to notice the cool of the room, but a nagging feeling told him that James had made a change to the house as a whole. Spock found this action to be silly, as he’d explained to him earlier. However, he felt no want to protest against it. No Terran ever made the effort to sacrifice their comfort for his own, even through an action as small as turning up the thermostat. As the Half-Vulcan willed himself to rest once again, he could describe his bubbling emotions as, for the first time in his life, charmed.

 

Approximately 5 Terran hours later he was awoken. Not by the bird chirping, as he expected, but by a gentle rustle at his feet. Sitting up, Spock saw an amorphous black and white shape, of what couldn’t figure. He breathed deeply, focusing his thoughts. The shape seemed to be breathing as well, and it was then that he noted the door to his room was opened. “One of James’s dogs, perhaps?” He voiced his thoughts to no one in particular.

Spock leaned forward, holding his hand out. His interactions with hounds had been limited in the past, but he knew this to be the way to engage them. The dog’s ears perked up at the creak of the old bed frame, and Spock could finally tell where it’s head was.

“Hello.” He whispered again, directed at the creature. It responded by opening its eyes to reveal irises of orange and crawling up to his open palm. It sniffed what was offered, finally meeting Spock’s eyes as it stretched out of its ball and into his lap. He assumed this was a hello.

A knock came to the door as he began petting the animal. “Hello,” James peaked his head through the door, fully clothed, hair matted with water. “I see you’ve met Bean. She always manages to get into rooms with closed doors.”

“Bean?”

“Yeah, that’s her name. Don’t wear it out.”

“I do not see how a name could be worn out.”

James walked over, leaning over to pet Bean in a manner that Spock found to be peculiar as he roughed up her face and patted her. “It means... Actually, I don’t know what it means.”

“Fascinating.”

 

“Hmm?” James looked up at him from a few feat away.

“That you would choose to say a phrase common in your culture, but not understand it’s meaning.”

The Terran considered the statement. “I’d consider that fascinating, I suppose.” He stood up, walking over in front of the Vulcan. “Say, Mr. Spock, have you ever seen a chicken?”

“I cannot say that I have.”

“Well get dressed, we’re having eggs for breakfast.” James began leaving, Bean following close behind. “I’m kidding, by the way. I know you don’t eat eggs. But you’re still helping me get them!”

When James told him that the house was incredibly old fashioned, it was not entirely in jest. The showering facility within the bathroom attached to the guest room did not contain the typical sonic shower that he was accustomed to. In its place was a shower that utilized water. It was not too often that he took a water based shower, but he was not going to complain. The feeling against his skin as he scrubbed himself down was certainly different, but not unwelcome. He found the effort to tame his hair afterwards to be tedious however, and decided to simply allow it to follow its natural tendency in terms of styling so as to not waste any time. Chris insisted he loosen up before he left. He would have to contact him later and inform him of the looseness he was allowing himself to experience.

Donning an outfit similar to the one he wore yesterday, Spock travelled downstairs to find James feeding one of the cats. He cooed at it gently as he patted its head, and Spock felt as though he were intruding upon an intimate moment. Despite this, he cleared his throat, James’s eyes snapping up to his, smile still on his lips.  
“You ready?”

“Yes.”

James opened the back door, leaning onto a large porch that looked down at the land beyond the house. Hanging from it and stretching out into the yard was a clothesline where Spock spotted a few garments common to a student of the Academy. The stairs from the porch led down to an open patch of land, with a Hen house in the top left hand corner and a garden spanning across the right side. It was idyllic, to say the least.   
They descended the stairs, and in a few minutes James had to door to the coop open, saying good morning to all of the hens inside.

“Spock, you have to say hello to them as well,”

“Hello hens.” he greeted in a more monotone voice than he usually used, causing James to laugh.

The man allowed most of them to leave before going inside to grab the eggs. He gestured for Spock to follow, and along the way explained the whole process to him.

After helping James water all of the flora of the garden and observing him play with a few dogs, they were sitting inside cleaning off eggs as warm light finally began pouring through the windows.  
“James-“

“It’s Jim, remember?” He said softly.

“Jim. I wish to inquire as to why you have chosen to attend the academy when life here is...”

“halcyon?”

“Yes.”

James observes Spock as he meticulously scrubbed at an egg, sighing before putting his own down. “I’ve been here my whole life, yeah? Known the same people. Done the same things. Stared at the same sky. But I don’t want to stare at the same sky all the time.”  
“I see.”

“It’s weird though. Something always manages to drag me back. Even when-“ he paused. “it’s just kind of involuntarily.”

Spock nodded once after a beat, going back to scrubbing at the egg. As James’s pile of finished eggs grew larger, his stayed stagnant. The Terran stood, proclaiming that he would get started on breakfast. Minutes passed before Spock cleared his throat, voice almost lost in the din of the crackling pan and stove fan.

“My mother frequently described earth to me as a child.” He began, James turning around to listen.  
“She would tell me of the variety of people to be found. How they all got along despite their differences, how everyone felt so much. I would dismiss it, saying the same level of diversity and prosperity could be found at any embassy on Vulcan, but even then I knew I was not being wholly truthful to myself.”

“That’s why you came to Earth.”

“Correct. I wanted to see it for myself.”

“Wow... And your dad, does he-“

“We have not spoken in several years.”

James placed a bowl full of mixed berries and fruit on the table, coming to stand next to Spock, hands placed firmly on the dark wood.

“I... I’m really sorry.”

Spock’s eyes snapped up to meet James’s, only to find understanding. Real understanding. He also found that the brown hair of the other man shone flaxen in the sunlight, and the tips of his ears became backlit with crimson. Spock let out a breath he did not know he held, nodding before returning to the eggs in front of him, the gentle sound of his host moving around the kitchen finding its way to his ears again.

 

When Spock was young, he did visit earth just once. His father agreed to (in Amanda’s words, “finally”) take them to the planet to visit with his Mother’s relatives. She came from a cluttered harbor town roughly four hundred miles from Starfleet. It was built into the side of a hill with a major roadway running between the residential areas and the glistening water. She told him that from what she knew, the city had not changed at all in centuries. Within the time frame of a week he was meant to become well acquainted with his Aunt, her wife, their children, as well as his maternal grandparents. It was clear to Amanda that he did not wish to do so. He never wanted to look humans in the eye and talk small, almost as if he could feel his father breathing down his neck and the disappointment that would accompany the feeling (even if he would never admit to such an irrational fear.) It took him a long time to realize that his mother, too, felt disappointment in his inability to feel. Instead of the task at hand, Spock spent his hours in the room provided to him, meditating. If he were forced to go to the beach with his cousins, he would meditate there. He pretended to not notice the beauty of the ocean and it’s beckoning of an exchange; his attention for the wonderful sight of its push and pull. After the visit, he came back to Vulcan feeling no more enriched than he did prior to his stay.

He found himself partaking in the exact same behaviors within James’s household, for the first week. He only indulged the man in participating in the morning routine they crafted, and nothing more. He would help feed the dogs and cats, collect and clean eggs, eat breakfast and retreat to his room. There was a palpable feeling coming from James’ eyes every time he ascended the stairs after they ate, even if Spock could not discern exactly what it was.

He was too comfortable. Spock was too comfortable in his shell and James was too polite to say otherwise. After all, wasn’t the purpose of this whole thing to pull Spock from the very shell he crafted? He found James’s presence to be adequate, and was that not part of the goal here?

“I find your presence to be adequate.” He articulated one morning, as James took a sip of his coffee. (He frequently mentioned how “shitty” the drink at the academy was in comparison to in Iowa.)

“I... appreciate the sentiment?”

“And as such, there happens to be little reason for my withdrawal into my room every single day.”

“I don’t think there is anything wrong with that. You’re just getting used to everything.”

“A week is far longer than necessary for me to adjust to the circumstances.”

“You are allowed to take all the time you need, friend.”

Not too many people in his life ever told him he was allowed to take his time. Perhaps just two, following the words leaving James’s mouth.

“I understand.”

“Yeah. It’s all good.” He took another sip of coffee. “Including this Sweet, Sweet Java.” 

Spock simply stared at James.

“It’s not actually from Java. It’s slang.”

“I see.”

“Well, if you’re so dead set on participating in the Good ol’ James household, might as well get up.” He downed the rest of the cup before stepping to the back door, opening it, and whistling a tune. “We’re walking the dogs!”

Spock stood up.“I was under the impression that these dogs were free to roam and had no need to go for walks.”

“Well, that’s the case for some of ‘em. Pea won’t leave our land because she got shot at once for wandering too far into someone’s property, so she won’t really walk unless tethered. Similar situation for a few others.”

Six dogs came up to the back door, all a variety of different breeds. Spock watched as James— not james, Jim. Jim hooked a few dogs up to leashes and harnesses, speaking to them in a high pitched voice that Terrans typically reserve for infants. As he slipped on tennis shoes the dogs flurried around him like bees to a hive.

“Hey.” He looked up at the Vulcan, smiling. “You ready?” 

“Yes.”

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah! So I have a lot of ideas for this! I already have part of chapter 2 written so... Expect that to come out soon! Thank you for reading :)


End file.
